


The Banite Menace

by Celebrusc



Series: The Circle is Complete [1]
Category: Star Wars, The Phantom Menace - Fandom
Genre: Dooku is going to have to invest in hair dye, Poor Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon's A+ mentoring skills, but are more than a little oblivious, it all starts at Naboo, line family, lineage feels, madscientist!Feemor, or styling tips from Mace, sith!AU, sithspawn!zombies, the Jedi mean well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-14 01:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9150487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celebrusc/pseuds/Celebrusc
Summary: When the Sith Lord Bane, with the help of the Jedi Order, wiped out the rest of the Sith, they missed one. Sith Apprentice Talpa was under cover in the Jedi Order at the time, and following the death of their Master, stayed there. Now, many years later, Talpa's line find their comfy life at the heart of the Jedi Order threatened when Qui-Gon Jinn encounters what can only be a Banite Sith on Tatooine, and someone he claims is the Chosen One.Forced to rapidly adapt their plans, scrambling for more information, and struggling to maintain their concealment from the Jedi they live amongst, not all the decisions they make are necessarily the ones they should.And Obi-Wan Kenobi, a Jedi surrounded by far more darkness, and a lot less light, than he realises, is at the heart of it all.But this is just the beginning. Well, a beginning. One we're all familiar with. This is the story of the fall of the Jedi, and the rise of the Sith. And it starts, as always, with Naboo.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year everyone!
> 
> The Circle is Complete started about 9 months ago as a random piece of writing set just after the fall of the Republic in a note book when I was attempting to study for exams, and my brain decided I need a new Star Wars AU. It has since grown arms and legs, and now spans from Dooku's apprenticeship all the way to TFA. (At least as far as my timeline is concerned).  
> I have snippets scattered through out that timeline over on tumblr, as I was prodded and encouraged to feed and water the monstrosity, and for Nano this year I made a dent (if not a 50k dent) in the first story arc of the series.  
> It is not beta'd, (volunteers are welcome) and is still a WIP, but I thought I'd share chapter one for the New Year.  
> I'm not entirely sure how to tag this, nor how to summarise it, but I'll fix the tags as we go.
> 
> Affectionately nicknamed by one friend "All The Ways Qui-Gon Jinn Screws Up: And You'll Never Guess What Feemor Did" (I promise I love them all really).
> 
> I hope you enjoy

_Year 02 of the New Sith Empire_

 

“At times like this, Darth Caminus, I wonder how anyone mistook you for a humble Jedi.”

The man that had once been Jedi Master Feemor Rathon rose from where he had finished his attack, kneeling in blood and mud, and sketched a bow to the Sith Lord who had stepped out of the shadows behind him. “Master.” He wasn’t surprised at the appearance, having sensed the man’s approach half way through his slaughter.

“Considering my current standing orders are for the capture of the rebels, would you care to explain why I’m standing in the middle of a bloodbath?” Lord Atarass’ sharp yellow eyes flickered over the silent scorched glade before returning to rest on his eldest apprentice. “Didn’t you have agents amongst this group?”

“Yes, and they sought to buy their way out of their failure with the death of a Jedi. _Of my brother_.” He snarled. “Even the true rebels amongst them thought nothing of abandoning him to the mess on Telos. “

His Master’s face darkened, eyes blazing glorious gold. And Lord Atarass wondered how he had been mistaken for a Jedi for all those years. Feemor allowed himself a moment to bask in the brilliance of the darkness of the Force that swirled around his Master. After several long moments, Atarass spoke. “He lives.”

Feemor felt the tension in his shoulders loosen at the words. “ We will bring him home, Master. I promise. If I have to track the brat down myself.”

Atarass’ lips twitched upwards into a slight smile. “I have no doubt of that, my dear apprentice. For now I desire your presence back at the Temple. Vader has finally brought my great grand padawan in from the cold, and I think it was time you two were introduced properly.”

“Of course, Master.” Feemor said easily, falling into step beside him. “ Though that doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“Fond as I am of the place, Caminus, I have no desire to spend the rest of my life within the cold stone of the temple. The Jedi failed the get me to spend more than half a year at a time there, and I have no intention of changing that.”

Feemor snorted. “The Jedi failed to make you do many things, Master. To their eternal despair. There were sighs of relief when you died. Right up until Obi-Wan dug his heels in and proved quite how well he’d learned his lessons. I think Yoda regretted foisting him on you a couple of times. At least the Emperor doesn’t force you to sit through senate meetings.”

“There is that,” Atarass agreed, as he led the way onto the ship.

 

Later, as Feemor stood under the warmth of the shower, a luxury that certainly would have been missing on a Jedi ship, he mused over how much weird he still found it hearing his given name day to day. He’d earned Caminus over thirty years ago, but it was only in the last couple that it had really been used. In contrast, Atarass acted like that had always been his name. Though to be fair, Feemor was still spending at least half his time undercover in his Jedi persona, whilst Qui-Gon Jinn had died over fifteen years ago. As such, his Master’s Jedi persona was as distant a memory as the man’s flowing locks. Now kept in a style far closer to Obi-Wan’s during the war.

 

Feemor banked the flair of anger he felt at the thought of his brother. Later. They would get him back. No matter what it took. Caminus refused to loose another sibling. Xanatos’ premature fall had been bad enough. The Jedi weren’t getting Obi-Wan.

 

 

_Year 13 BNSE (15 years earlier)_

  
The room was dark, the rising walls illuminated by pox marks of dimly glowing moss. Lichen creeping into every crevice of the old rough stone walls which arched beyond sight. Beneath the unseen ceiling capping the once open garden, trees reached up as they struggled for space. Choked by vines as they leaped even higher into the air. Below, the rich soft earth was wet and squidgy under foot. Sharply thorned bushes, and razor leafed plants brawled for the limited ground. Twisting and ensnared amongst each other. The air was heavy with the sweetness of decay. The twist of sleep poison rife on the air. Amongst them all, uncaring of the toxin of the plants that slowly entwined themselves around him, the Sith Lord Atarass knelt in meditation. The bitter sweet saccharine seduction of the Dark side of the Living Force flowing through and around him. Completing him. With none of the searing amputation of the Light.

Slowly, with great reluctance, he let himself rise out of the river of all things, and rose gracefully to his feet. As soundless as he had been for the last two hours, Atarass left the room. Stepping through the low arch, lined with rusted hinges, into the pitched darkness of the corridor beyond. Slowly he ascended from the planet’s surface. Up broad steps, which had once been polished bright, which were now slick underfoot. Up rotting ladders, crumbling narrow stairwells, and scaling equally crumbling walls. The path was treacherous underfoot, filled with traps and pitfalls. The route a labyrinth twisting backwards and forwards, up and down and up again. Passed classrooms thick with dust, walls still lined with old lessons. Passed labs locked tight, and tangled remnants of machines. Beyond libraries long forgotten, and beds unused. Practice rooms empty of the cries of their students. Each step was a possible mistake, but in the dark, without the light to blind him, Atarass moved with confidence. Unconcerned by the rustle of scales, or the low pitched distant growls that whispered along the vaulted halls.

As he rose from surface, so he rose from the river of the force. As the purity of the darkness of the lowest levels was slowly poisoned by the light of the City, bleeding in through broken windows - once brilliant stained glass images, now shattered shards of purple and red - so Atarass allowed the light to bleed into himself. Wrapping the Darkness at his core with ever more layers, so that when he stepped into the bright light of the main corridors of the Temple, no trace of the Darkness could be found. And just as easily as Atarass had moved through the haunted empty halls below, so Qui-Gon Jinn moved through the bustling passageways above.

As much as he’d craved the nurture of the true Force, he now desired simply to return to his quarters. To his Padawan. To his home.  
  
  
  


Qui-Gon keyed open his door, and stepped forward, only to freeze in the doorway. He always found it jarring, the handicap of the blindness that came from being wrapped in the Light side of the Force so much worse when he’d spent time immersed in the clarity of the Dark. Or at least that was the excuse he was using for why he had not detected the Force presence of the man casually drinking tea, seated properly on his sofa, as opposed to the sprawled form of his padawan that Qui-Gon had been expecting.

Shedding the surprise with all the ease of a Jedi Master, Qui-Gon stepped into the room allowing the door to hiss shut behind him. “Master, this is a surprise. Where is Obi-Wan?”

“Obi-Wan, so interesting that you should ask after him, considering that he’s the reason that I am here.”

It took all of Qui-Gon’s control to not freeze again, this time half way through the removal of his outer robe, as an icy sharp of fear slid down his spine.

“Oh?”

“Sit down, Qui-Gon, the boy is fine. Master Gelleric is back in the temple for a few days and is running a symposium in the large training hall. As such Obi-Wan is safely occupied for the next hour. Which gives us plenty of time to discuss why Obi-Wan is still your padawan, considering we have had everything organised for his Fall for over a year.”

After a moment’s hesitation Qui-Gon hung up his robe and settled onto the sofa beside Dooku, collecting the second cup of tea that had been set out on the low table.

“He isn’t ready for his trials.” Qui-Gon said simply.

Dooku raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Really. And I fail to see how my Padawan’s progress is an excuse for breaking into my rooms.”

“You can hardly call it breaking in, Qui-Gon, considering you keyed me into the door yourself.”

“Unauthorised entry then.”

“ _Qui-Gon._ ” His Master said sharply, voice cold with the reprimand, “I did not come here to debate the schematics of whether I have the right to enter your rooms. We both know the answer. Despite that, I would not have had to resort to something as uncouth as waiting for you unexpected in your own quarters if you would deign to respond to my communications to discuss the matter civilly. “

“We’ve been busy.”

“Busy or not, apprentice, the matter needs to be addressed, and like it or not, it is my concern. It is our entire lines concern. I have followed your wishes regarding interacting with the boy, but I have been tracking his progress. Master Yoda, has gone so far as to request my opinion on why you have not put the boy forward yet. You are attracting attention, Qui-Gon. Why are you hesitating?”

Qui-Gon had to admit that Dooku had a point. After the disaster that had been Xanatos, it only made sense that the rest of their line were watching Obi-Wan’s progress with great interest. And concern. Which was why Qui-Gon had to be sure the boy was ready for his trials. Obi-Wan was a brilliant padawan yes. Skilled with a lightsabre, quick thinking, still far too sharp with his tongue, but nothing that time wouldn’t smooth. However his arrogance and temper were far too great just yet. Much as Xanatos’ had been. No, he would not make the same mistake with his third padawan that he had with his second. He would not risk hurting his family with his attachment a second time. Obi-Wan was not ready for his trials. His Master had not met the boy, had seen only the reports Qui-Gon had submitted to the Council. They were far from an accurate judge of character. Qui-Gon proceeded to tell Dooku such, but instead of accepting Qui-Gon’s greater knowledge on the subject, Dookumerely sighed, placed his tea upon the table, and turned to face his old padawan fully.

“Qui-Gon, the boy is practically the picture of the perfect padawan. He is far ahead of his year mates in many areas, yet he does not brag, or refuse instruction or offers to spar. Instead he works to help others improve. Accepts critiques with grace. Yes, he has a temper, most twenty year old humans do, but from what I have heard it has not been out of control in many years. Unless you have left something significant out of your reports. If so, I need to know.”

Qui-Gon considered his Master’s words, was it possible that he was over compensating? He weighed them in the Force as best he could handicapped as he was in this space. Yes, he decided. It was possible. Obi-Wan had come a long way from the boy that had been censured by the Council. Indeed, Master Yoda had been pressing him to present Obi-Wan for his trials, when with Xanatos he had instead counseled caution.

“You are letting your fear rule you, Qui-Gon. That cannot continue. If you cannot see your way past this alone, I will help you. You cannot allow Du Crion’s ghost to haunt you for ever.”

“Are you offering to meditate with me, Master?” Qui-Gon asked, mildly bemused, resolutely ignoring the mention of Xanatos. Dooku had not offered to meditate with him at all during the last three years before his trials, and had done so only occasionally during the initial years of his apprenticeship.

“If that is what it takes. I am here to help you, padawan. No matter how old we grow, at times we must all seek help from others. “

Qui-Gon filed Dooku’s words away for future use against his old friend, and placed his own tea back on the table. “Thank you, Jard. I suspect you may be right that I cannot judge this clearly. My opinion is compromised by my fear and by the past. Obi-Wan most likely is ready for his trials, still I would like to take you up on your offer of meditation before I refer him. I would like to be sure.”

“Of course, my old padawan. I understand. I am to be on Coruscant for research purposes for the next four tendays, when would be best?”

Qui-Gon considered this. “Obi-Wan and I have been specifically requested by the Supreme Chancellor to negotiate with the Trade Federation regarding a blockade that may or may not be legal. It should be an easy enough mission, I do not foresee us taking more than a handful of days outside of travel time.”

“And if it does?”

“I promise, Master, I will meditate on this.”

“Your word, that even if I am not here when you return, you will recommend Kenobi for his trials. We have all put to much effort into this to hesitate now.”

Once more Qui-Gon hesitated, and reached out to the Force for guidance, but it remained stubbornly silent. In the end, Qui-Gon gave in. “Very well, my Master. You have my word. When we return from Naboo I will recommend Obi-Wan for his trials.”

Dooku rose to his feet, and laid a warm hand reassuringly on Qui-Gon’s shoulder. “You have learned from your mistakes, Qui-Gon. The boy will do well. And we will get to the root of this weakness. You must master your emotions, my apprentice. You must rule them, if you wish to draw on their strength, not permit them to rule you. If after all these years you have not yet learned that lesson, then I fear I have failed you as your teacher.”

Qui-Gon reached up to clasp the slender fingers beneath his own for a moment, then rose to join his Master. Letting their hands fall back to their sides.. “No, old friend. This failing is mine. The lesson is one that I suspect I will never stop learning. You taught me well, even if,” he added smiling, “some of those lessons were a little rough.”

Dooku snorted. “A little? You have always had a gift for understatement, Qui-Gon. Consider this in your meditations regarding your attachment to the boy. I have failed to lose your affection or presence, and Kenobi is far more attached to you than you ever were to me. You’ve made sure of that.”

That, Qui-Gon had to admit, was very true. “Speaking of my errant padawan, that sabre class should be finished soon.”

“And so I must be off.” Dooku agreed, moving towards the door. “ I do look forward to meeting him, Qui-Gon.”

“Once he’s knighted.” Qui-Gon promised. “Until later, Master Dooku.”

“Until later, Qui-Gon.”

 

 

It was passed time for late meal, and approaching last bell, when Obi-Wan finally found himself hurriedly working his way back through the halls of the Temple to the rooms he shared with his Master. He hoped he didn’t get in too much trouble - he had been requested to be home in time to eat with Qui-Gon - but the sabre class had over run, and really it had been absolutely fascinating. Obi-Wan was half surprised his Master hadn’t been in attendance himself. But then, Qui-Gon was one of the Temple’s best fighters. He probably already knew everything that had been covered. Obi-Wan just hoped his Master didn’t mind the use of Obi-Wan’s own time in attending it, when he had been supposed to be with Qui-Gon.

Taking a centering breath - his use of time had been appropriate after all - Obi-Wan opened the door and stepped into their apartment. Shedding his brown outer, Obi-Wan hung it on the wall next to his Master’s far larger one. Turning back into the main room he headed left padding into the small kitchen area in search of something to eat.

“There is a crockpot in the oven, Padawan, if you would be kind enough to set it on the table.” The voice from over his shoulder almost made him jump.

He turned his head to find his Master standing in the narrow doorway. “ Of course, Master. I apologies for being late, there was a symposium from Master Gelleric on the use of sabrestaff and it went on for longer than I expected.”

“I am aware, Padawan. Your grandmaster stopped by for tea and informed me. Thus I knew to hold latemeal. However, in future, I would prefer if you left me a message yourself, so that I can plan my own schedule accordingly.”

“Yes, Master. I am sorry, if I wasted any of your time this evening. I will try to remember for future.” He apologised. He had been foolish, and unmindful of others. Of course he should have commed his Master to let him know could have been late. Then, as he removed the pot from the oven and laid it on the table, his brain caught up with the rest of what Qui-Gon had said. “Master Dooku was here?”

Obi-Wan had never met his grandmaster, but Qui-Gon spoke highly of him. From the early days of his apprenticeship Qui-Gon had mentioned snippets of advice of his own Master, and told stories of things the man had done. Obi-Wan was sad that he’d once again missed the opportunity to meet the man that his Master looked up to, and indeed, Obi-Wan was willing to admit, if only to himself, that he had no small amount of hero worship for the man.

“Yes, Padawan. You just missed him. He is only in the Temple for the next few days and wished to catch up. He saw you on your way into the symposium and thought it better not to interrupt your education. He did ask after you though, and he is almost as eager to meet you as you are him. At this rate it will be after your knighting though.”

Personally Obi-Wan would rather of had the chance to meet his grandmaster, the master of Makashi, than attend the symposium, but he could understand the Master’s choice to put Obi-Wan’s education first. Still, “he recognised me?”

Qui-Gon let out a gentle laugh. “Of course he did, padawan. He’s been following your career with great interest. Now help me set the table. You must be ravenous.”

“Me, Master? Which of us hasn’t eaten since first meal again?”

“Just get the plates, imp. “

Grinning Obi-Wan followed his Master’s instructions, and was soon seated at the small table with a bowl of rich stew.

“So, “ Obi-Wan began, after they’d started eating, “if Master Dooku is in the Temple for the next couple of days would it be possible to meet up with him before he leaves?”

Qui-Gon shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Padawan. We’ve been given a mission ourselves, and are due to leave early tomorrow. Chances are slim that we will make it back before he departs.”

Obi-Wan blinked in surprise, “a mission, Master? This is awfully short notice.”

“Yes well, apparently we were requested specifically. The Trade Federation has placed a blockade around Naboo, and apparently we have been asked to help reduce he tension levels. Helping them reach an amiable resolution with greater speed than the courts allow.”

“But Master, isn’t it illegal for the Senate to interfere if the matter is already being processed by the Court?”

“Which is why we will not be acting on behalf of the senate, Obi-Wan, but rather the Supreme Chancellor himself.“

“I see.” Obi-Wan said, though personally he didn’t see how that made much difference. Sure enough it was legal by the wording of the law, but surely not the spirit of it, which should be the important thing. Still, he would bow to his Master’s greater wisdom.


	2. The Opening Negotiations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably observe, that we won't really be deviating from canon until at least Tatooine. In that, from Obi-Wan's perspective, nothing should actually appear to change from what we expressly _shown_ in The Phantom Menace throughout this entire part of the story. (This does not mean that we aren't going to veer wildly off the cliff when they return from Tatooine, it just means that Canon will _appear_ to happen.)
> 
> Currently unbeta'd, volunteers welcome. 
> 
> As always, enjoy.  
> And please let me know what you think

 

  
Early the next morning found the two Jedi waiting in the bitter cold winds of predawn at the landing platform for the ship scheduled to take them away. Obi-Wan found himself grateful for his slightly over sized cloak, as he waited serenely by his Master’s side. It was times like this that he found the Jedi’s veneer of all knowing serenity annoying. Obi-Wan would much rather be spending the time waiting on the landing pad reading the information they had been issued for the mission, than standing around in silence. That way he could have used the time on the ship to catch up on his sleep. Not that he couldn’t go without sleep for a long period of time, but he hated being up at this time. Obi-Wan was very aware he would rather be up all night then rise late than the other way around. Something his Master found highly amusing. His greatest punishments usually involved rousing Obi-Wan at this hour, though Obi-Wan supposed it wasn’t quite so bad when he wasn’t being dragged into meditation or sent to run laps at the ungodly hour. His Master, to his eternal despair, was the same level of cryptically frustrating and coherent no matter what the hour

The flight out to the blockade proved to be uneventful, and Obi-Wan made himself scarce, which Qui-Gon was appreciative of. First to read over the scant information they had received in their mission briefing, then to focus on his studies for the exams just around the corner - Obi-Wan was determined that he was going to be present to actually sit them this quarter. Qui-Gon himself was eager to get the mission over with. There was a thrumming in his bones and in the Force making him agitated. He still wasn’t sure about putting Obi-Wan up for his trials. To risk losing the bright spark that had glued itself to his side. He hadn’t wanted to take the boy as his Padawan, but the Force had made it will emphatically clear over the days they had spent together both on the way to, and on Bandomeer all those years ago. However there was a warning in the Force that hinted at danger to come, and it had been growing stronger the more the years had passed. And it was strongest when he thought of Obi-Wan’s knighting. Qui-Gon disliked reliance on dreams and premonitions of the Force as they were far to easy to misinterpret, but he did listen to its warnings, even though he chose not to focus on them, and something told him that there would be a great separation between the two soon. Still, his Master was right in that he could be protecting his worries. He needed to focus on the here and now, the Force would bring what it would bring.

The intercom chimed as the pilot announced they were approaching Naboo, and Qui-Gon rose to move through to the cockpit. Obi-Wan joined him, wiping the last of sleep from his eyes as he did so. Qui-Gon couldn’t help the swell of fondness at the sight. For a moment Obi-Wan looked like the carefree youth he could have been, emotions unguarded as his eyes shone with curiosity and anticipation. But as he wiped away the sleep, so he wiped away his emotions, letting the blank mask of the Jedi settle into place. Nodding his approval, he settled in to watch their approach, Obi-Wan still and serene behind him. The boy had improved dramatically over the years, and looking at him now, Qui-Gon supposed he could see the knight Obi-Wan could be, yet he found himself missing the spark of emotion that filled Obi-Wan’s eyes at every turn in his youth. Even the bond between them was muted, as Obi-Wan sought to master and release his emotions. Qui-Gon hoped that with his Fall, Obi-Wan would finally allow his Master the true sense of the depth of the emotions within him. Until then however, the boy’s attempts at serenity would have to be encouraged.

In front of them, through the anterior window of the ship, the Trade Federation’s blockade came into view. A communication projection flickered onto the screen above. Qui-Gon was glad that the ship lacked the cameras necessary to sent an image in return. An advantage of traveling with this particular captain, who was fed up of having to constantly explain his age.

“Captain?”

“Yes sir?”

“ Tell them we wish to board immediately.”

Nodding, the captain tapped the microphone on. “ With all due respect, the ambassadors for the supreme chancellor wish to board immediately.”

“Yes. Of course, “ the Neimodian replied. “ As you know, our blockade is perfectly legal, and we’d be happy to receive the ambassadors.”

Qui-Gon very much doubted the truth of the second part of that statement, they were politicians after all, but at least they were putting on a veneer of civility. That would make things easier, thus allow the negotiations to proceed faster. Meaning he could return to the temple to speak with his Master sooner.

 

 

 

They landed in the hanger of the Trade Federation without incident. Leaving the pilot and crew within their ship, Qui-Gon walked down the exit ramp into the main hanger, peripherally aware of the flicker of Obi-Wan shadowing him two paces behind on theRight. He felt a twinge of annoyance, as instead of greeting them personally, they were escorted by a protocol droid to one of the conference rooms. Qui-Gon disliked droids, their presence in the living force dim and unclear. Still, whilst no doubt a deliberate snub, he put the emotion aside at the the machine’s introduction.

“I am TC-14, at your service. We are greatly honoured by your visit, ambassadors.”

They were here as a neutral party after all, even if in his opinion the Trade Federating were little more than greedy cowards who cared only for themselves, and some cultures did rely more heavily on droids in their households than others. The corridors of the ship were empty of any life forms, he noted absently, but turned his mind to the growing unease he felt at his promise to his Master regarding Obi-Wan rather than dwell upon a cultural preference.

The conference room they entered was the similar to many he had seen, a long ovoid table lined with chairs, plain walls, and a large window over looking the planet below. The droid waved them ahead saying “Make yourselves comfortable, my Master will be with you shortly.”

Qui-Gon migrated over to the window and gazed down upon the world, it looked like so many they had seen over the years. He thought of the dusky view of over Bandomeer, and a boy who didn’t know when to act, but was willing to give his life for others without thought. He thought of Phildean, and a strength of resolve so great that they couldn’t wipe his mind. He found himself comparing his companion from the last year or so, to the boy that the Force had put in his life all those years ago. Was he ready? Or was he still too impulsive, to driven by his emotions and tangle in the Unifying Force to be trusted to stay in the Light alone?

They had been left in the room unsupervised for only a few minutes, when the droid returned, again unaccompanied, but at least this time it entered with a drinks tray, that didn’t excuse it from interrupting his thoughts.

His padawan reached up to serve the two of them, from the seat he had taken at the table, and Qui-Gon drifted over to join them. The Jedi Master valued his independence and self reliance, but he would miss being waited on. It was a highly un-Jedi like thought, but then, he wasn’t truly a Jedi.

Beside him, his padawan glanced down at his hands, submissive, and hesitant to interrupt his Master, but he carried on anyway. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

Qui-Gon turned his attention to his apprentice, still half caught up in thoughts of the past and future. Nothing seemed different to him, but then, Obi-Wan had always been willing to challenge him. Even going so far as to stay behind in a war zone in an attempt to prove a point. “I don’t sense anything.” He informed him curtly.

“It’s not about the mission, Master. Its something elsewhere, elusive.” Obi-Wan’s soft deferential tone was pitched to sooth, but his words were familiar. The boy needed to be better than this.

“Don’t centre on your anxieties, Obi-Wan.” He gave the familiar reprimand on autopilot. “Keep your concentration here and now, where it belongs.” Until his padawan was capable of remembering to look at his feet, instead of thinking about the climb several hours ahead, he would never be ready to face the galaxy alone without someone to catch him.

“But Master Yoda said I should be mindful of the future.” Master Yoda said a great many things. Qui-Gon was fairly sure that there wasn’t a being in the Temple who hadn’t wanted to throttle the little troll at some point in their lives.

“But not at the expense of the moment.” Qui-Gon completed the old adage sharply. It was just like the Grand Master to give half of a piece of advice, being selective instead of allowing one to consider the wisdom of the whole. Much like the Jedi insistent on the righteous detachment of the Light, without considering the necessity of balancing it with the passions of the Dark. “Be mindful of the Living Force, young padawan. “

Obi-Wan glanced down at his hands, and flushed slightly. “Yes, Master.”

They sat in silence for several long moments, and Qui-Gon had just started to consider why precisely he was nervous to be without his padawan? What great calamity their separation could cause that it made his teeth ache? When Obi-Wan interrupted his thoughts again.  
“How do you think this Trade Viceroy will deal with the Chancellor’s commands?”

Qui-Gon burrowed his frustration at being disturbed again, at least he would get a moments peace without a youngling constantly pestering him, and fought to keep his tone neutral. “These Federation types are cowards. The negotiations will be short.”

Either his tone wasn’t quite as neutral as he thought, or his frustration at the interruption was bleeding over the bond between them. Either way Obi-Wan fell silent, leaving Qui-Gon to his thoughts.

It was quite some time later, that Obi-Wan spoke again. “Is it in their nature to make us wait this long?”

Qui-Gon’s immediate reaction was to censor the boy for acting like an impatient youngling, but realised before he spoke that his padawan had a point. It had been far longer than was normal for them to be kept waiting. He sank slowly into the pulse of the Force, and felt the sour tang of fear sharp around him. A tang that was far stronger than it should be considering the circumstances.

“No,” he admitted to Obi-Wan, still half his mind on the currents around him. “I sense an unusual amount of fear for something as trivial as this trade dispute.” But it was more than that, there were swirls and eddies within the Force just beyond his reach. If he could just sink into the Darkness for a moment…but no. Obi-Wan was right there. He couldn’t risk it. Maybe he should have pushed the boy for his trials if only so he didn’t have to hide from him anymore. As it was he pushed the thought to the back of his mind, determined to meditate on it later.

There was a surge in the Force, and he and Obi-Wan leapt to their feet, lightsabres ignited. A sharp burst of violence and death still ringing in their ears . His head snapped up as a gas entered the chamber.

“Dioxin,” he identified coldly. Things had just got a lot more complicated.

In perfect sync the bonded pair took deep breaths.

After a couple of minutes with no further action, and only a tense lull in the Force, Qui-Gon reached for his re-breather, and Obi-Wan did the same, before they sank into a light meditation. Waiting. Watching for the moment to act. A good fifteen minutes had passed by when Qui-Gon felt the first stirrings in the Force, and soon after the protocol droid began to make its way towards the exit. Removing their re breathers, the two Jedi waited for the doors to open, allowing the Protocol droid to exit in front if them. At least its conversation with the battle droids made it useful for something, and the something was locating their opponents.

It was the work of seconds to dismantle the surprised droids, and for Qui-Gon to turn his attention to the main problem. The Trade Federation Ambassador. Chances were if they weren’t here, then they were likely on the bridge. Even if they weren’t, it would be easy to take control of the ship from there.

Qui-Gon had been on enough ships to know the general direction the bridge would be located in, and he didn’t hesitate before setting off. Obi-Wan jogging lightly at his heels to keep up. The moment they reached a junction however, he paused, turning to face his apprentice. Whilst Qui-Gon had no doubts he could easily find the bridge if necessary, it was part of his duty as Obi-Wan’s Master to encourage the boy’s strengths. One of which just happened to be an almost unhealthy obsession with star ships.

Upon being given the lead, Obi-Wan paused for a moment, head cocked to the side. Qui-Gon was familiar with the look. It was the look his padawan gained when he was planning something, or was tackling a particularly complicated problem. It was only for a moment however, and then the boy was off at a jog once more. Taking each turn without hesitation. They passed several more droid patrols, quickly dismantled, each probably on their way to intercept them, but the reach the bridge with little difficulty.

Obi-Wan settled to guard his back without prompting, and Qui-Gon spared half a thought for how well they moved as a team these days. For what it would be like without that implicit trust and cohesion. The rest of his thoughts were on how the Trade Federation thought a locked door would stop a Jedi Master. Had they not realised that all members of the Jedi Order were issued with universal keys?

He was half way through cutting out the locking mechanism, the strong heady tang of fear from behind the door pulsing through the Force, when he heard the blaster doors shut. He sighed. Really, did they honestly think that would help?

Forgoing the more delicate and elegant extraction of the lock, Qui-Gon settled for plunging his sabre in to the hilt on it highest settings and just melting their way through the door. He buried the smirk that the fresh wave of fear that action prompted, leaving the Jedi mask of serenity in place even as he basked in the emotion. He was making good progress when Obi-Wan called for his attention.

“Master! Destroyers!” He turned, as Obi-Wan spun passed to settle once again at his left shoulerd, and scowled. He hated droids. Side by side they deflected the blasts, but it did little good. He didn’t comment on Obi-Wan’s redundant observation that they had shield generators - he did have eyes after all - instead spinning to the side.

“Let’s go.”

With a short burst of Force enhanced speed the pair bolted down the corridor away from the destroyers. He felt the hesitant touch of his padawan’s mind - this way Master- and followed it. When it came to navigating ships, the boy was the better of them, though some of his plans could be a little… really? Ventilation shafts? Did the boy have an obsession with the things?

Even on the ship out to Bandomeer the boy had already instinctively turned to them to navigate places he wasn’t meant to be, and Qui-Gon dreaded to think what trouble his padawan had used the Temple tunnels for when still in the creche. There were a few things to be thankful for regarding Feemor’s repudiation. That his padawans had never had the opportunity to encourage each other’s mischief making was one.

“Are you sure I’ll fit” He was a great deal larger, and bulkier, than his lanky apprentice after all.

“Honestly, Master, don’t you trust me?”

Sighing, Qui-Gon gave his apprentice an exasperated smile, and clambered up after him. At this point he truly was reliant on his padawan’s lead. With his padawan’s proclivity for ending up in the things Qui-Gon did usually at least glance at the schematics for the ventilation systems, but he hadn’t expected to need to this time. Which was, he was willing to admit, possibly a mistake on his part. Still, the boy was old enough to look after himself.

 

 

 

The next couple of hours were spent crawling through the air ducts. Qui-Gon directing Obi-Wan to take them to the hanger. The Trade Federation needed to be reported for their attempt to murder members of the Jedi Order, and to do that they needed long range communications. Hopefully they would be able to free their ship and escape, but Qui-Gon heavily suspected that the initial shock wave through the force had been their deaths. If that was the case, their best bet was to make it down to the planet. That way they could inform the Queen of Naboo what had happened, and utilise their long range com.

Obi-Wan moved with almost as much confidence as he had in the corridors, and they only had to back track twice. Considering Qui-Gon himself was well and truly turned around at this point, he could readily forgive his padawan. No matter how undignified he must had looked crawling backwards in the cramped space. Eventually Obi-Wan signaled that they had reached their destination, and the pair dropped down. Qui-Gon was pleased to be able to stretch again, but put the discomfort of his body aside. They could not afford to be distracted at this point.

What they found when they reached the hanger however, threw all other thoughts out his mind.

“Battle droids.” He observed softly. Squadron after squadron of battle droids. “Its an invasion army.”

He turned the idea through his mind as he said it, and found it fitted far more than he would like, even as it rang true in the Force. But still, they were missing the reason why, and without that they had little chance of resolving the situation. He turned his attention to the padawan at his side. “This is an odd play for the Trade Federation. We’ve got to warn the Naboo and contact Chancellor Valorum.” He previous thoughts were even more vital now. This wasn’t a simple misunderstanding, or trade dispute, this was quite possibly war.

Qui-Gon made a snap decision. “Let’s split up. Stow aboard separate ships and meet down on the planet.”

There was a pulse of affirmation through their bond, followed by a brief wave of amusement. A few years ago he would have jumped in to criticize his padawan for finding the imminent invasion of a peaceful planet funny. Now he just waited. As predicted, it wasn’t long before Obi-Wan spoke his mind.

“You were right about one thing Master.” Qui-Gon turned to face his padawan, “the negotiations were short.”

Qui-Gon found himself wishing his smirking ginger haired imp was standing a little closer so that he could reach the boy’s braid for a good tug, but let it go. Obi-Wan wasn’t the smoothest of negotiators, and it had been a well intentioned tension breaker. “ Away with you, scamp. I’ll see you on the planet.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet JarJar, and Obi-Wan has opinions on Qui-Gon's negotiating technique.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, not dead. Even if I haven't posted in ages, or even been on tumblr in almost a year.   
> This, could do with a bit more polishing tbh, but I figured it had been long enough. Also I'm procrastinating from studying. But shush.  
> I can't promise it'll go any faster. I should get chapter 4 at least done at easter, and 6-9 are mostly finished finished. But I promise we'll get there eventually.

The journey down to the surface was not the most comfortable Qui-Gon had ever made, with out seats or padding, cramped between the rows of collapsed droids packed tight for storage. Still, the ships were air tight, and landed smoothly enough (it didn’t catch on fire for a start) so that was something. Still, he had to get away before the droids activated.

Moving to the front of the vessel as it prepared to land, the moment the doors lowered he darted outside, joining the stampede of native wildlife spooked by the vessels. There were two things he had not been counting on. The speed with which the droid army mobilized, and a loud stupid sentient local getting under foot. In an attempt not to get murdered by the droids, he ended simply flinging both of them into the dirt as the ships passed over head.

To his despair, the creature insisted on following him. Declaring its worship of him. In any other situation he might have found this amusing, pleasing even. As it was…

“You almost got us killed, are your brainless?”

“I speak.” It replied.

Qui-Gon was far from impressed, the heavy weight of his now mud soaked tunics making him even more irritable than usual. “The ability to speak does not make you intelligent.” He snapped back without even glancing back at the being trodding at his heels in the position normally reserved for his padawan, not that it stopped its mindless chatter. It was making him even more thankful for the boy’s competence, and brought to mind the question of where Obi-Wan was. Before the brief spike of worry could truly take hold the answer appeared in the form of blaster fire.

Why Obi-Wan wasn’t bothering to defend himself Qui-Gon did not know. If there was one thing Qui-Gon had never had cause to complain about regarding his apprentice it was the boy’s skill with a lightsabre, but said weapon was merely hanging on the boy’s belt as he jogged to his Master’s side. He wasn’t even utilising the Force to escape the droids.

It was the work of seconds for Qui-Gon to deflecting the bolts back at the droids, easily destroying them and sending the speeders crashing into trees. The local, who at some point in its wittering had named itself JarJar Binks, immediately started fussing about how Qui-Gon had saved it again. His apprentice, who’s robes were even muddier than his, and who’s hair was attempting to imitate a eopie's crest, grinned far too knowingly.

“What’s this?”

“A local.” Qui-Gon said sharply, in no mood to deal with the amusement he could feel from across their bond. “ Now let’s get out of here before more droids show up.”

“More? More did you say?” JarJar said in shock, as though it wasn’t blatantly obvious they were in the middle of an invasion. Honestly.

Qui-Gon didn’t wait around for the this Binks character to sort itself out. The particular tang of its fear in the force making him nauseas. Instead he set off at a light jog away from the landing site. Obi-Wan matching his pace, though his padawan seemed far more tired than he would expect given their level of exertion. He kept half an eye on him as they moved, but if he was going to recommend Obi-Wan for his trials, he had to trust that he knew his own limits.

“Excuse me,” Despite his best efforts to ignore it, the gungan was still following them. “but the mostest safest place would be Gunga City. It is where I grew up. It is a hidden city.”

The two Jedi slowed to a halt, finally turning to face their companion.

“A city?” Qui -Gon asked, his tone suddenly gentle, coaxing, trustworthy. The kind of voice you’d use to tempt a battered kitten out from under a dumpster. “Can you take us there?”

“Uhhhh, On second thoughts, no. Not reallly. No, no.

“No?”

“Its embarrassing. But uhhh Me afraid mesa been banished. Mesa forgotten. The bosses will do horrible things to me, terrible things to me if me going back there.”

Just for a moment Qui-Gon had thought that this local was going to be useful. But the twist of fear at the thought of returning to this city, the first useful thing since they’d left on this mission, shredded the last of his patience. If playing nice wasn’t going to work, then he’d just have to give it something worse to be scared of.

“You hear that?” He said, his voice dropping to just above a whisper.

“Ya?”

“That,” He said stepping forward, “is the sound of a thousand terrible things coming this way.”

“If they find us,” His padawan joined in, crowding Binks from the other side. His voice carefully pitched to match his Master’s. “They will crush us, grind us into tiny pieces, and blast us into oblivion.”

Qui-Gon felt his heart swell with pride. His padawan truly did have a way with words. Judging by the dancing light in Obi-Wan’s eyes, he enjoyed the intimidation too. An optimistic trait for a future apprentice, though going by the way he shyly glanced at Qui -Gon when he finished, Obi-Wan was at least aware that it wasn’t desirable in a Jedi.

“Ah.” Bink’s shuffled its feet, looking down for a moment. “Yous point is well seen. Dis way!”It suddenly spun around, almost whacking Obi-Wan who only just managed to duck out of the way, then darted off into the forest

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan followed it closely, arriving at the edge of a large body of water not long past sun set. It wasn’t until this point, when an exasperated Qui-Gon demanded to know how much further, that it occurred to Binks to mention that the city was underwater. And disliked outsiders. Wonderful.

“Don’t expect a warm welcome.” It added, unnecessarily.

“Oh don’t worry, it hasn’t been our day for warm welcomes.” Qui-Gon let a ripple of amusement flicker along their bond in response to his padawan’s comment. Obi-Wan’s tongue was liable to get him into trouble he wouldn’t be able to talk his way out of one day. But for now it did its job of lightening Qui-Gon’s spirits. Tense and stressed as he was, he could feel Obi-Wan’s concern for him.

The local gave out a shrill cry, no doubt giving away their location to any droids within a klick, and performed an overly fancy dive into the water. Exchanging an exasperated look with his Padawan, thankful that Obi-Wan had outgrown the overly dramatic phase, he took his rebreather out of his utility belt, and together they waded into the water. As they did so, he gave one last look around, partly to make sure they hadn’t attracted any attention, and partly because even to him, something about this didn’t feel right. 

 

The swim to the hidden underwater city was a long one, though not as long as Obi-Wan had expected, the floor of the ocean dropping away sharply about half a klick in. Their local guide didn’t stop to rest at any point, and whilst Qui-Gon had little difficulty keeping up, Obi-Wan found himself carefully bolstering himself with the Force, thankful for his Master’s inattention - whatever the cause. That and his hours swimming with Bant.

The city that appeared ahead of them shone in the dark waters, making him wonder how anyone would every describe it as “hidden”. They followed JarJar to an entrance in the energy field. Obi-Wan was slightly surprised when they passed through to find himself in what was essentially a technologically maintained large bubble. Whilst he had known JarJar could breath the air, the fact that he could also breath underwater had lead Obi-Wan to assume the hidden city would simply be in the water. The brief addendum on their mission notes regarding the second sentient species of Naboo hadn’t gone into a great amount of detail, and Obi-Wan hadn’t had time to requisition more from the library before they left.

Still, at least the energy field dried their robes, and the swim had got the worst of the mud out.

 

It seemed that JarJar hadn’t been joking about the poor reception, though Obi-Wan wasn’t sure who the locals seemed more wary of, them or JarJar. More than one person physically recoiled when JarJar announced his presence, a number swiftly moving away from them. Obi-Wan couldn’t help but wonder what mess his Master had got them entangled in _this_ time. They hadn’t even been there for a minute when they found themselves surrounded by mounted guards. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if that was a record or not. JarJar at least didn’t seem too intimidated by the guards physical threats, though the guards eagerness to use their electrospikes worried him. But JarJar barely even flinched when shocked, so they couldn’t be set to too high a setting, and expressed a great deal of familiarity with one of the guards, even if they did end up in some sort of cell, there was a chance that JarJar would be familiar enough with it to help them escape.

 

By the time they’d finished the half hour trek to see the city’s leaders, Obi-Wan was starting to feel washed out. Thankfully, as with all city leaders, they ended up cooling their heels in a reception chamber for fifteen minutes, which allowed him to meditate and recover a little. Obi-Wan didn’t miss the sharp look his Master sent him, but was thankful that Qui-Gon was unlikely to push further in so public a place. They could not afford to appear weak after all, and Obi-Wan was perfectly aware his lack of engagement with what was going on around him would be taken as deference to his Master. It was a trick they’d utilised before to ensure he was over looked and underestimated.

When they were finally summoned before the City’s leaders, Obi-Wan settled two steps behind his Master’s shoulder, as was proper, and rested his hands in his sleeves. Right palm only a hairsbreadth from his sabre hilt.

“You, Sir, cannot be here.” Well, it wasn’t the most ominous greeting they’d ever had, but his fingers still twitched towards his sabre.

“This army of mechanics up there is with you, we saw.” And they weren’t precisely wrong with that statement either.

Qui-Gon settled his hands on his hips, apparently his Master had opted for the confrontational response. “An army of droids is about to attack the Naboo, we must warn them.” Qui-Gon’s tone was soft, reasonable, and completely at odd with his stance. There were no explanations for their presence, no apologies for intruding in the Gungan city. Seriously, there were times Obi-Wan wondered how his Master had gained a reputation as a great negotiator.

“Wesa no like the Naboo, the Naboo think they’re so smart, they think their brains so big.” Wonderful. Just wonderful. Of course the Naboo and the Gungans couldn’t get along, its not like they share a planet or anything. Just like JarJar, it was obvious to him that the only way they were going to get anywhere was to explain the threat as immediate to the Gungan in front of them.

“Once those droids take control of the surface,” Obi-Wan spoke up, stepping forward to stand beside his Master, “they will take control of you.”

“Mesa no think so.”

Obi-Wan wanted to knock his head off a wall. Even after over 10 years traveling the galaxy at his Master’s side, he still grew frustrated when people refused to accept that they were in trouble. Especially when it endangered the people under their care.

“They not know of Bosen.”

Did they honestly believe the droids would not be able to detect them? And even if they didn’t, the Naboo mostly left the Gungans be. The Trade Federation had a reputation for exploiting the planets they had control over.

“The Naboo and the Gungans form a symbiotic circle,” he tried to reason, after a quick glance at his Master to make sure he was okay to continue. “What happens to one of you affects the other, you must understand this.”

“Mesa no care,” The Gungan leader declared, shaking his jowls in emphasis. “ About the Naboo.”

_‘Enough, Padawan. We don’t have time to argue with them any longer’_

His Master sent stepping forward to cut in once it was clear that Obi-Wan’s attempt at persuading them to see reason had failed.

“Then speed us on our way.”

Obi-Wan kept his eyes resolutely forward, doing his best to ignore the subtle hand gesture that denoted his Master’s use of Force persuasion. Obi-Wan had never been comfortable with how freely his Master used it, but this was hardly the place to rehash that argument, and time was of the essence.

“We’s will speed you on your way”

“We could use a transporter”

“We’sa give you one bongo.” Obi-Wan wasn’t sure whether to interpret JarJar’s interrupting squeal as shock that they were being given the bongo, or horror. “The speediest way to the Naboo is going through the planet’s core.”

Obi-Wan definitely did not like the look of the smirk on the Gungan Leader’s face.

“Now go.”

“Thank you for your help,” Qui-Gon offered neutrally, as the two Jedi bowed. “We leave in peace.”

As they turned to leave Obi-Wan softly inquired, “Master, what’s a bongo?”

“A transport, I hope.” Obi-Wan felt his stomach drop.

“Theysa setting usa up.” JarJar’s comment as they passed didn’t help. “ Going through the planet core, bad gamen????…ummm any help here would be hot.”

Qui-Gon paused, then turned around _. ‘Nononono, please no Master’_ Obi-Wan begged mentally. “Master we are short on time.”

“We need a navigator to get us through the planet’s core.” Obi-Wan did his best not to flinch. He wasn’t that bad at navigating by charts. “This Gungan may be of help.”

And suddenly his Master rediscovered his ability to negotiate, of course it would have to be on behalf of some pathetic lifeform that just _needed_ his help. Not, you know, the lifeforms of the entire planet.

Within the hour Obi-Wan found himself piloting a small ship containing the three of them into the deep waters of Naboo, in a ship that was at least designed for four limb bipeds, if not humans. Because of course their ‘guide’ couldn’t pilot it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I got rid of all the bracketed numbers, but if I didn't, all they refer to is the time stamp of the movie.   
> That's whats mostly been slowing me down actually, trying to get the dialogue accurate.


End file.
